


Decisions Make You

by bitchinlesbian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, anyway i'm back on my angst train, but this is painful so, enjoy, instead of the speech maybe, or after it when he faints, or don't skip this if you do want to, skip this if you don't want to cry, so this is after tony gets back ig?, you choose i just wrote the damn thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchinlesbian/pseuds/bitchinlesbian
Summary: "I hate this. I hate that I hate you, for things we had no real control over.""No. I left you, Tony. I left you with a phone and a letter, thinking that would be enough. But I was wrong."I am so so so sorry. Enjoy.:)





	Decisions Make You

His eyes are lifting for the first time in many days, a gentle fluttering from a man in great pain. They've given them some space for this very moment, the reunion that should've been. Steve had placed his own palms with Tony's minutes before he started waking up, trying to warm up his frozen hand. A single twitch from his fingers makes him lift his head, eyes glazed over.

"Tony?"

"No."

One simple word is enough to break Steve's heart again, those fragmented pieces that had attempted to heal turning to fine ashes resembling just how easily their love had burned out. What was that nursery rhyme about the crows? One for sorrow, two for mirth? Well, the distress he's feeling, they're both feeling, is a painful one in more than a psychological way. It's impossible not to feel the holes in their chests burning at the memories of their best moments.

"We all lost, Tony. And I know how much Peter meant to you, how much he meant to all of us, and we'll get him back. You just have to hold out hope." And when he smooths his fingers over the fragile bones that are poking out from under Tony's, Tony wrenches his hand out of Steve's grip. "You've lost it, I know. I left you there because I thought I didn't have a way to get you back. But maybe I just didn't try hard enough, and I regret that so much."

"You know, every night that I was up there, I thought about you, what it would be like to see you again. I thought I'd cry, I'd be happy, thankful that I actually got to see you again, but..." He looks at the flowers at his bedside, the words he wants to get out stuck like toxic bile in his throat. "I hate this. I hate that I hate you, for things we had no real control over."

"No. I left you, Tony. I left you with a phone and a letter, thinking that would be enough. But I was wrong." Steve manages to slip his fingers around Tony's again, a weak tightening from his bony fingers all the permission he needs to hold on. "I should've tried. Tried to keep in contact, found a way to go after you.

"This was a fight we were meant to fight together, and us being apart was the only thing that made us lose. I regret every breath I've taken without you by my side, every night I've had to sleep with the thought of you being gone permanently, living my life not knowing if you still had yours -- I regret everything because I regret not staying with you."

The seconds tick by, a menacing sound to the ears of those who have had their heart-strings pulled far and wide, played like a fiddle, an expert behind the curtain orchestrating all the pain and love and brokenness like a God. Speaking... Well, it's hard. Because when you stop talking, for however long, you lose that part of you that knows how to communicate with the one person who you thought you would share a lifetime with. Someone with who communication could be done by action, a secret language only the two of you understand.

But when you've missed them, when you've had years taken from you, years that should've been spent together, the possibility of ever developing that sort of language is wiped away from existence, as though it was a mistake that never should have made it into the framework we call life. So, as the seconds roll into minutes, the only thing they feel is anguish, remorse, bitterness, a sense of despair hanging so heavily in the atmosphere it feels like they're drowning in their lies, in torment. But such is the consequence of falling for someone that will inevitably drag you down into the depths with them.

"I can't just let you in again, Steve. Two years... it changes a person." He's rasping, voice barely there. "And you-you hurt me in a way... a way I never imagined. So, this? This isn't-isn't something a 'sorry' will... will fix. I can't-I can't-" And he's not talking anymore, barely breathing, and Steve's frantic, trying to think how he can calm him down, because he knows what he's looking at, and he wishes he wasn't.

"Look at me." A shake of the head. "Look at me, Tony. Come on." A flitter of eye contact, but it holds, albeit shakily. "You're safe. You're fine. Focus on me, focus on the items around you. Name three blue things you can see when you look around."

"The-The curtain, the... b-b-blanket, and-and..." His eyes open wide, and so does his mouth.

"One more. Just one. No pressure."

"The... the clock."

It's out. Those two little words that were causing him to feel like he was slipping away from reality, as though the world was slipping from his grasp over and over and over again. And he hates that feeling, so much, but he knows the cause and he knows how to stop it from happening again. Even if the way to do that might hurt him more.

"Tony?"

"Go." It's a knife to Steve's chest. To Steve's gut, to his back, to his mind, to his _soul_. He didn't think it would come, the statement that makes things final, that puts back up the walls he'd taken so long to bring down. And if they were looking at each other right now, both of them might see the glistening in their eyes and make a different decision. But they don't, so they stick to what they know.

The chair scrapes, Steve takes in a shaky breath, Tony squeezes his eyes shut and tries to slow his heart, and the atmosphere is no longer dense, heavy with consequence. It is lighter than hydrogen but feels just as drowning and toxic as air full of unsaid words. And this is all that they know.

 

 

How to say goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> second stony one-shot of mine i prefer writing these they're more fun :)  
> share if you're nice cause i'm proud and crave attention oof


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